A Wise Word:

Witchcraft is all about living to the heights and depths of life as a way of worship. --LY DE ANGELES

Friday, September 23, 2016

Sourdough Hot Cakes: Making New Memories and Honoring the Old

Lately, I've been noticing that cooking blogs make sourdough complicated. They want to measure humidity, add unnecessary ingredients, make huge batches of leaven to use only a small sample, and do tests to rate the activity of their starter.

Just reading what the modern cook has to say about sourdough intimidates me and I've known sourdough all my life. Sourdough was a staple for prospectors, cowpokes, and busy pioneer women. It is intended to be simple.

As far as anybody can figure, my Papa kept a sourdough starter for 70 years. He was of the cowpoke variety. Every morning he made sourdough hot cakes or "doughs." His kids were raised on them and so were us grandkids. I made it a point to make them an important part of life for my older children and now I have started with the younger ones as well.

This afternoon, I made hot cakes with Little Moon. It's a simple process, but far easier with out the help of a hungry two year old.

Instead of a proper recipe, doughs are more of a ratio. Use one cup of starter for every two people and go from there. For each cup of starter use 1 tsp white sugar and 1/2 tsp baking soda. Yep. That's it.

Pour starter in a large bowl and gently mix in sugar.

Place baking soda in a mug or small bowl and dissolve in a tablespoon of warm water. Fold into starter.

This is the fun part! As the baking soda mixes with the starter, the batter foams and grows.

Spritz a preheated skillet with non-stick spray and spread batter thinly. The pan should be over medium heat. When the surface starts to dry, flip the dough and cook for a minute or so longer.

Done and done.

Serve with maple syrup and butter no photos of this as the girls were more than over me photographing their food. My Papa always ate his with two over-easy eggs sandwiched in the middle and an entire flood of syrup, washed down with black coffee of course.

The girls loved this new addition to their diet and before we sat down to eat we set the prettiest hot cake in front of my grandparents photo as an offering. All rolled up, the way Papa liked to eat them for an afternoon snack.

Finding a Witch

As a little girl, I told my parents that I preferred being barefoot because I could feel the Earth breathing through the soles of my feet. Of course, with their typical conservative piousness, I was quickly shushed and informed that the Earth did not breathe. Even though I never mentioned it again, I didn't for a moment believe them.

For many years, I communed silently with the elements and in times of need used childish spell work to pull healing from the Earth and soothing from the Wind. It was my secret superstition and I hid it well beneath my fundamentalist Christian costume.

After being freed from the church for several years, I begin to pursue the secret knowledge I have carried with me all this time. That is how I got here: joyfully practicing the old faith in this little apartment. I'm still in the broom closet most days and I have a lot to learn, but the journey has begun.